Agent V and Project Y5V153: The Full Story

In the early days of KFP, health inspections were little more than a friendly meeting between well known acquaintances than a regulatory visit. The inspectors had grown accustomed to being treated to an impromptu concert by tenchou whenever they arrived, transforming even the most stern-faced inspectors into enthusiastic fans, their clipboards forgotten as they were swept up in the performance. Reports would come back with perfect scores, adorned with loving doodles of phoenixes and musical notes.

This changed when a new health department director took over(the last one being let go for having “a bias” towards certain places) - an ornery one who had a dark secret past that caused them to dislike idols. Where previous inspectors wrote glowing reviews, rating the restaurant with top marks every time, this one wrote stern citations about "unauthorized raw poultry in food preparation areas" and "employees demonstrating concerning avian characteristics."

KFP was devastated. They were given a strict deadline to turn things around-- but the heart and soul of KFP were the chickens(and the very healthy food cost margins), and many, struck with fear and helplessness, began to despair.

C-727 was a brilliant researcher in KFP's R&D division, known for their eccentric behavior and often overly dramatic persona. They weren't the most outgoing member of the R&D division, preferring to spend their time tinkering with new recipes and running oddly specific tests on kitchen equipment. Their dedication to KFP wasn't just professional - they were one of many chickens working at KFP, all facing the threat of losing their livelihoods. When the health department threats began, C-727 took it personally. Not just for C-727, but for all the chickens who had found their place there. He refused to just accept the outcome.

So, C-727 rolled up his non-existent chicken sleeves, put on safety goggles, and proposed a radical new idea: a KFP Test Kitchen. On paper, it would be a legitimate R&D facility for developing new recipes and equipment... but in reality, it would be the base of operations for Project Y5V153 - their desperate attempt to save everything they held dear. As he prepared his proposal, he couldn't help but hear tenchou's words echoing in his mind: "Life is only what you make it." It was time to strike a match and burn it up... but sometimes, when you play with fire, you get burned.

At first, C-727 worked alone, marked by C-727’s intense personal dedication. They used themselves as the primary test subject, meticulously documenting every transformation attempt, every success, every failure, and when their body couldn’t take it anymore, used those lessons to create new tools, uniforms, and equipment that might help their fellow KFP.

The documentation tells stories of "impossible efficiency rates," "unauthorized broadcasts," and "concerning rhythm patterns in injection molds." But between the lines, you can read the care that went into each design - every tool crafted to make the transitions easier, to help his fellow KFP in any form.

But he knew the chances of Project Y5V153 working was slim. There was no guarantee he would be able to successfully stabilize the transformations without side effects in the ways he’d hoped to in the time that he was given. And so, he began to work on a backup plan, taking shape in the Eternal Flame Kitchen’s central cauldron-- one that had been boiling perpetually since before 9000 BCE.

If that new health department director wanted to strictly interpret the rules at him, then he would throw everything right back at them. His research notes from this period reveal a subtle, spiteful defiance beneath the clinical terminology:

"Health department concerns regarding raw poultry in food preparation areas can be addressed through the central cauldron's perpetually boiling state. When challenged, health department director failed to list a single pathogen that could survive eternal flame temperatures, and stormed out. Any accidental staff additions to broth during maintenance would qualify as premium ingredient enrichment. Protein content optimization occurs naturally in this scenario.”

The later entries maintain their clinical tone, but now with an unmistakable undercurrent of grim determination: "Even if Project Y5V153 fails, the ramen solution ensures KFP's survival. Health department regulations cannot dispute constant boiling temperatures as a sterilization method. KFP chickens should be able to continue, at least, tending to the cauldron..."

The ramen wasn't just a backup plan for KFP; it was his promise that no matter what happened, there would always be a place for KFP, even if that place was maintaining an eternal flame under a constantly boiling broth, or falling inside the broth itself to increase its rich, delicious flavor.

The records show endless entries in their writing:

• Test subject demonstrates increased height fluctuation
• Noting temporary loss of feathers
• Transformation stable for approximately 4 hours before unexpected reversion

And many, many more. But the toll of repeated transformations began to mount. The mirror's reflection looked more and more unfamiliar with each change, no matter what form they were in, and they were going under with their confused obsession.

Performance reviews note:

• "Productivity increases noted during height fluctuations, but decrease sharply afterwards"
• "Concerning tendency to use self as primary test subject"
• "Subject demonstrates concerning tendency to treat identity like a mirage, jokingly refers to oneself as a “chimera”
• "Maintains excessive personal logs labeled 'professional development opportunities' dating back to 9000 BCE"

As the project progressed, C-727 faced a harsh reality: it was impossible for one lone chicken to endure everything he needed to do. The deadline loomed, and individual self-experimentation, no matter how many hours of sleep he sacrificed, or how hard he worked, he would need to rely on others to help. But C-727 wasn’t good at asking for help, especially for something so important, and something that asked so much of others.

Even when he requested permission to test on others, he only wanted to test on volunteers, others like him who would do anything to help KFP and tenchou. He was nervous, thinking that no one would want to be tested on, and endure what he had gone through. But his fellow KFP were much more than he thought. They flocked to him in droves, to where he had to close the signup lists, and turn many away.

And yet, this did nothing to assuage the guilt that he felt. They were still tests, and his fellow KFP still had to endure all kinds of strange procedures(which, many participants noted, were a breeze compared to the usual room), and he began to become increasingly distressed. Their eagerness to help only intensified his need for emotional distance. He needed a shield, and what better shield for emotional connection but raw, heartless numbers? He quickly proposed a new protocol to HR: 887.3. Names became numbers. Friendships became "professional working relationships." Every transformation was documented with clinical detachment.

The records show the change. Personal notes became sterile reports. "My friend from KFP" became "Team Member C-445." "Extra crispy" incidents were filed with proper forms instead of worried check-ins. It worked.

He blamed the machine. It was true, after all, that the machine was creating problems. It had misidentified Jimmy, Jimmy, and Jimmy, and they were often being transformed left and right, with the machine being unable to differentiate them even with numbers. Due to the wildly different anatomical structure between the hominid form and the avian one, HR began to request different documentation depending on the physical status of the KFP Team Member, and created the Class C and Class H system within the KFP Test Kitchen. Due to C-727’s constant testing on themselves, something that had notable impacts on their perception of the world and memories associated with it, HR had trouble keeping up with every time they changed, leading to many clerical errors on C-727’s entries.

Somewhere along the name, C-727’s name and employment records were miscategorized and misfiled, and his name forgotten. A typo separated his records from C-727 to H-772, and those precious records and documents he’d been meticulously keeping to try and keep his scattered mind together was torn asunder. He became a victim of the very protocol he had created to try and distance himself from others, and through this protocol, had now distanced himself from his own past, his own identity. He no longer had a name. He no longer had a purpose.

He was lost.

And soon, KFP lost him, too, and he disappeared from the KFP Test Kitchen without a trace.

Some time later, rumors began to circulate of a mysterious investigator looking into KFP's operations. They called themselves Agent V, though their true identity remained unclear. They moved through KFP's spaces with an unsettling familiarity, recognized by security systems that should have rejected them, instinctively understanding protocols they claimed to be investigating.

Their search through old records and forgotten files seemed obsessive, almost personal. The truth was there in the documents all along. The eye scanner's recognition, the familiar comfort of KFP's spaces, the way they understood "the usual room" - Agent V was C-727, lost in their own protocols, searching for an identity they had willingly sacrificed in the name of scientific objectivity.

With each document uncovered, each familiar space revisited, V began to understand their greatest mistake: Protocol 887.3 had never been necessary. The emotional distance hadn't protected anyone at all. It only served to hurt the very people they had tried to protect. The transformation process didn't need emotional distance to work. If anything, it worked better with connections intact, with team members supporting each other through their changes, maintaining their bonds across classifications.

Because in the end, that's what V had really been searching for - not the truth about KFP's secrets, but the truth about belonging. And they discovered that belonging isn't about what form you take or what protocols you follow - it's about being exactly who you are, and finding others who accept you just as you are.

That was the real success of Project Y5V153 - not that it allowed chickens to pass health inspections, but that it proved what C-727 had forgotten along the way: sometimes the best way to protect what you love is to love it exactly as it is.

Buried in the back of a filing cabinet, V found a stack of rejected appeals. Variance requests denied without cause. Violations cited for issues that had never been problems before. And most tellingly, inspection reports that had been filed before the visits even occurred.

V stared at the documents, fragments of memory stirring. All this time, all those transformations, all those protocols... had they been solving the wrong problem?
The investigation remains open. V's identity is still scattered across mismatched files and temporal anomalies. But in their latest report, filed in triplicate, a note stands out:

“This... is the newly appointed health department director. Looks normal, right? That’s what I thought too. But then... I noticed something weird... The health department director isn’t what they seem. The world deserves to know what’s going on behind those closed doors. Together, we will unravel this chimera of mirages they’ve created...”

As of this report, I... I mean, Agent V, is nowhere to be found again.